Lost in Amsterdam
by goth4ever
Summary: "He had to be an angel. No, a demon. No angel could make his body the way he could." Actor AU. Hiddlesworth.


It was in Amsterdam, I know it was, because that scent of salt water mixed with alcohol was so sweet. He had brown hair, curled and swept back like new born waves, and blue eyes, so crisp and clear, like the winter sky had been captured in his gaze. Oh my god, yes! He made me nervous... gazing at me over the glass his wine laid bed to as he took a slow sip from it, his eyes so playful but dangerous at the same time, as though they belonged to a lion cub. I thought I was to be held captive there for all eternity, when suddenly, a moment came with catastrophe, so drastically, my heart increased exponentially.

He crossed the room with his long legs, so slender and fine in his tight jeans. The tapping of his boots seemed as loud as my own heart beat, swallowing me whole. And just as I thought I would spiral down into the blackness of my own desire, he was standing in front of me, and he said, "Would you like to dance?" I had hardly noticed the band picking up with their saxophones and bass guitars, drums of five and microphones.

I looked at him, being taken captive by his gaze once more. And my brain stopped. Not functioning anymore, not listening to the rest of me. I felt the words form on my tongue, curving with danger I knew they would cause, but they didn't stop them from rushing out, making me say, "Yes."

His plum yet thin lips curved into a smile, one that held more mischief under its lining than anything else. He grabbed my coat, and soon we were spinning, the world disappearing with nothing existing but us and the beat.

My heart came alive. I could feel it pounding against my chest, but it was so exhilarating, like a drug I never knew of, never tried, never tasted... I couldn't stop. I needed more. He had me by the clock and I could tell he never intended to let go until we were both spent.

He moved so fast, so gracefully. Every step seemed like he planned it all. Maybe he had. But though I didn't know the steps to his dance, he taught me with his eyes, his hips, the way his body curved and twisted around my own. The heat of his body sunk down into my pours, making my skin itch for his. He let my hands rest on his hips, but only for a moment until he spun, having me chase after him once more. It was a tease; his dance. He'd get close, letting me taste what he had to offer, then would back away again, making me work for it.

Watching him spin then put his hands on my shoulders, his leg coming up to wrap around my thigh. He didn't have to tell me what he wanted, because I somehow already knew. My hands moved to his back and I leaned forward, one knee bending to support our weight. He was remarkably flexible, allowing me to bend him back so far that his curls brushed the dark wooden floors when he dropped his head back, giving his neck to me, inviting me to once again only get a taste of the big picture.

My lips curved over the base of his Adam's Apple, allowing me to feel the pulse of his blood and the sigh that escaped him. When he lifted his head, we were close enough to steal each others' breath. One of his hands cap up to run over my cheek and jaw, then a finger danced over my lips, but when I moved to kiss him, that playful smirk from before appeared once more.

He had to be a angel. No, a demon. No angel could move his body the way he could. When my brain caught up to me again, the world was back once more and he was no longer in my arms. Surprised, I'm sure my eyes were wide as I stood to search the room for him, but my eyes caught his at the front door to the bar. He stood there, his hands against the doorframe as he stood close to it, as close as we once were. He smiled at me, but was gone when I blinked.

Had I been dreaming? Why would my mind be so cruel as to play such a trick against me, but that's when I discovered something in the collar of my shirt. I pulled it out to inspect it, finding seven digits and three letters. As I whispered the name for only me to hear, I felt the hair on my body rise, as though I was speaking of a spell.

"Tom..."


End file.
